Blighted by Desire
by Chasind Desire
Summary: You might be asking yourself, how does a Chasind wilder become a Grey Warden and help end a Blight? So many wrong turns had lead me here, it was my chance to make things right.  We were more than Wardens, we were like a family. Even the maleficar.
1. The Howe and the Why of It

**Blighted by Desire**

**a/n: **_To those of you that have read Desire's Due, the start of this might seem familiar. My muse go a hold of the idea 'what if my wilder became a Warden at Ostagar.' She has been running with it ever since. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. It is A/U obviously and there will be Jowan, anyone that knows me knows I am obsessed with the man. _

_While it helps to have read the first chapter of Giving Desire her Due to catch the parallels, its not needed. The last thing I wanted to do was rewrite the beginning, so I'm starting where the two roads diverge. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong> The Howe and the Why of It

* * *

><p>You might find yourself asking: how does a wilder girl end up in a cell beneath Highever Castle? I'd listened as its inhabitants bleated for their lives like beasts brought before the slaughter. Yet somehow I'd remained unharmed. Its a question I've been asking myself since I was brought here. The stench of the dungeon permeated every fiber of my being, every breath laced with filth. Now, the morning after, all was quiet. The smell of charred flesh mingled with the putrid scent of captivity. For all my wickedness perhaps I deserved to be here. Everything I'd done had been to avenge my those I'd loved. I'd finished that task, but still I lingered like a ghost upon Ferelden. I continued to feed my inner demon, unable to return to my home deep within the Korcari Wilds. Did my tribe still exist even? The Blight had begun there, spewed forth as vile corruption upon the land with relentless intent.<p>

So many wrong turns had lead me here, to this dark place. The most recent had been to accept gold in return for tracking a Grey Warden's movements. But the man who hired me had been Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, a legend even among the Chasind. If I could no longer belong to the Wilds, perhaps I could find my place within Ferelden. That was not the way it had worked out however.

I hate dogs, that is all I will say about the embarrassment of being caught.

I didn't struggle against the red-headed knight, his hands were big enough to hold both my wrists in one. Where would I go if I escaped him? Killing him was always an option. I'd trained to tumble with Templars, one knight would hardly be considered a challenge. It was the castle full of such knights that cured me of the notion. I thought I might be able to get out of a death sentence if I cooperated. I'd heard it said Bryce Cousland was a good man. It wasn't as if I'd gotten caught making off with the family jewels. Though, to be honest, I might have given it a go if his Lordship's eldest had been willing.

"Mmmm, I like it rough," I'd said as he shoved me up against the cold stone. The red-headed knight snorted, choosing not to dignify my comment with a verbal response. I sent a silent prayer to the Sky Mother. beseeching her to grant me the ability to hold my tongue. Being surround by stone walls made me anxious, and I had the unfortunate habit of running off at the mouth.

"Is this the part where you strip search me? I promise to misbehave," I smarted off as he patted his hands down my leathers in search of hidden weapons. He was rewarded with the two daggers I keep hidden in my boots. As they clattered to the stone, another pair of footsteps made their way down the stairwell.

"Almost got lucky," Ser 'not-amused' said as he nearly shoved me into the first cell he came to. He then put me into the next cell down. "Almost put you in the faulty cell. Can't have you telling all your thief friends about how you got away. Bad for the reputation."

"I am not a thief. I've been following the Grey Warden," I hissed in response. Being accused of theft struck a special chord. We wilders were always being accused of taking things that weren't ours.

"She's telling the truth, this one has been trailing me for some time. Quite impressively actually," his voice was rich, even and commanded attention even in soft tones, "Do you mind leaving me alone with her?"

"No, of course not Warden," He bowed his head like a good little knight. He gave me a last look, he was certainly amused now. It made me want to put an arrow in his eye socket. I smiled sweetly as I envisioned for him a gruesome death, "Just let someone know if you need it cleaned up after."

Before he left, the knight collected my effects and placed them in a barrel by the entrance. I snorted at that. I didn't even warrant a chest it seemed. Duncan waited patiently. When the knight left, the Warden approached the cell. He was careful to stay out of my reach, the clever bastard. I wish I could say all men were that smart, but they weren't. He examined me, pulling his gaze down from my head to my toe. Staying silent would have been the smart thing to do. It wasn't something I'd been accused of lately however.

"So you knew I was following you the whole time eh? I knew I wouldn't do so hot within walls, but I guess I overestimated my skill set all together," I hung my arms through the bars and put my weight on my elbows casually. I wondered if I looked as much like a cornered animal and I felt. All the possible questions he could ask ran through my mind. Loghain wasn't paying me to be silent, I'd pigeon out at the drop of a hat if it would get me out. The words that came were completely unexpected.

"I wouldn't say that. You just underestimated my abilities. I already have a fair notion as to who would put you up to such a thing." He bought a hand over his mouth in contemplation, the man could grow a beard. I'd say that much for him, "Have you ever considered becoming a Grey Warden? We could use a woman with your 'skill set' as it were."

I was speechless. It was such a ridiculous question, of course I'd thought about it. Every true warrior on Thedas had dreamed at one time of becoming a Grey Warden. Had there ever been a wilder Warden before? I'd almost felt like my old self these last few weeks. I'd been adrift since leaving the Wilds in disgrace, lost in a world I hardly understood. I'd even lacked the decency to die with my bow-sisters. Tracking Duncan had given me a purpose, and he stood there, offering me another. What better way to atone for my failure than to spend the rest of my life fighting off the creatures that defiled my sacred home?

As I'd opened my mouth to answer, screams of men bellowed from above. I had recognized the sounds of fighting. Within moments I was alone, my chance taken from me before I'd actually had it. The Warden had barreled up the stairwell. At that point, I believed the only thing I could realistically hope for was that they would kill me quickly.

_-That is highly unlikely,-_ Desire sighed, the demon already contemplating where she was going to find another host.

Forget to disclose that my inner demon is a literal demon did I? Can you blame me? One admits to a bond with a demon as often as a maleficar confesses himself to a Templar. They usually meet the same end, the pointy end to be exact.

To many, it would at the very least be uncomfortable to share their mind with another. But I hadn't ever been normal to begin with. Since childhood, I'd been able to see into that place between the waking world and the realm of dreams. Not always, but randomly. I had grown up knowing that sometimes monsters really did lurk in the shadows. I learned just as quickly that most of them couldn't care less about, or even perceive, our mortal plane. Of those that did, few had the power it took to punch through. Filtering out those glimpses into the in-between was yet another service Desire provided. One I was grateful for.

It was odd, how the man looked at me. We'd laid eyes upon each other before, in the Teyrn's office. He was the Arl Rendon Howe. He was despised, that I'd learned in my travels. But he was also feared for his unabashed cruelty. I had book back in my camp about the Ferelden Rebellion, I'd stolen them of course. Little was said of White River, but he was one of only fifty to survive it. He was a hero too, for all that the other nobles tried to discourage that notion. He was the dark counter-balance to the light of men like Bryce Cousland. He'd embraced it, the same as I had. What I was peering at was my future. I knew it then as I know it now. Only now I shudder at the thought, then I'd shrugged it off and paid it no mind.

My skin crawls now, thinking about how he'd examined me like a moldy piece of cheese not even Alistair would touch. But I'm getting ahead of myself, we'll get to Alistair soon enough. This man was my chance out, I'd just not hours previously allowed another chance just like it to slip from my grasp. For a second I wondered what would happen if I just stayed quiet and let come what may. Instead I took my chance at convincing the man in front of me.

"The girl, she got away then?" I smirked, the narrowed glance he shifted at his men told me everything I needed to know. The things I'd heard his men whisper were true. Voices within stone walls carried, "The fools you brought with you won't get close to catching her. Especially if she is with that Warden. They can't even keep their mouths shut."

"Says the woman in a cell," he replied with a condescending air.

"My feet are swift. My aim is true. And you know what my bow can do," I said sweetly. He'd been there, when I'd struck the deal with Loghain, when I'd explained that I had no magic to my name that didn't originate from my bow. Much to the Teyrn's disappointment, "They won't see me coming if I mean them harm. What have you to lose, my good Arl?"

I knew he was thinking it over. More than that even. With Desire I had gained a sixth sense of sorts. I knew innately when I was wanted. It occurred to me then that there might be a second way out of the cage. I'd slept with worse, thanks to my demon's whims. He was an old dog, but he was a warrior still; Fereldens rarely wore weapons unless they could use them. He'd killed his fair share of Orlesians too, if my books had an ounce of truth to them. The Orlesians had been as much friend to the Chasind as they had to the Ferelden people. Even less so. It was during the Occupation that many our tribal leaders were lost to the Chantry's Knights and their quest to cleanse the Wilds of maleficar. After that the shaman had started using bow-mages, like myself, in greater numbers as a means to protect themselves.

"Or I could warm your bed, if that is more to your liking," I offered. It was, I could almost scent the attraction on him. His eyes went to a red-haired knight as his men brought him down from above. Ah, Ser Not-Amused. We were destined to meet again it seemed. With a few words, the Arl jerked his head toward the door of my cell. A slack-jawed slovenly soldier type fumbled with the keys as he unlocked it. I was free, but unarmed and had no where to run to. I waited for direction, silently for once.

"I wonder if you have the stomach for the task, women tend to have tender sensibilities," he said, then had one of his man produce a dagger for me. As I grasped the cool metal handle, I looked to the Arl questioningly. What was it he wanted me to do? What was he looking for. He jerked his head towards the slightly stirring knight, his green eyes fluttering open in half consciousness.

I moved to the knight, snaked my arm around his head and pulled sharply back as I tangled my fingers in his fine hair. His green eyes met mine, he was afraid but he didn't make a sound. He was proud, defiant. Maybe in a different time and place, this knight and I could have been companions. We could have been on the trail to Ostagar together with the Warden if Howe hadn't interfered. But now he stood in between me and my freedom. I danced the tip of the blade a hair's breadth above the tender skin of his neck, I looked to the Arl as I did. Waiting for him to stop me from killing his captive. Instead I could feel the want coming heavier off him. He was enjoying this, I smirked at that.

The knight cried out when I peeled his ear from him like skin off a potato. The red blood cascades in rivulets down his ruddy neck, cording in his agony.

"You haven't guts enough to kill a man, you'll be no use to his Lordship," spoke one of the soldiers that held the knight. I lifted myself, ignoring the idiot. I turned and leveled my stare on Rendon Howe. It was him I answered, the man's ardor having yet again increased. To others he was simply watching as I mutilated a man, to me he was reeking of want.

"He was hoping that I would kill him. It would have been too quick. A mercy even. He'll be missing that ear for a while yet," I said, my tone matter of fact.

With a hand to his chin he replied, "I'd have taken both ears, maybe a nose."

"Why rush it? Instead string the ear, and hang it where he can see it," I answered with a cruel grin, "What will it be, your Grace?" I added, shamelessly appealing to his vanity.

He chose both, he always did believe he deserved more didn't he? He must have realized my chances of coming back to him with the Lady's head were slim to nothing. I can't say I remember much of the event after Desire came to the forefront of my mind to feast. She laments to this day that he was darkly delicious, like every drop of light had been squeezed from him; like turned his back on the light and embraced the darkness after struggling so long against it. The demon could tell a lot about a man by the taste of his desires. As I've said before, looking at the man was like looking into my own reflection. The only difference being I was still struggling.

After he sent me along to find the little Cousland spitfire, she couldn't have gotten too far away.

oOo

I tracked them easily, the Warden's attempts to throw off pursuers were hurried. While they might have deceived a lesser tracker, I quickly deciphered their intent. I had one advantage over my quarry, I could travel at night unhindered by beasts. They avoided me as readily as flame, sensing the wrongness of the demon I was attached to. It was the same strangeness that piqued the interest of Templars. Leading me to believe it is a honed skill rather then a talent bestowed upon them by their Maker in return for their vows. Alistair did always seem like he'd skipped that day of class though.

I caught them as the sun rose, they hadn't that much time to gain on me. I could have used a spell off my bow, but I avoided using them when I could. Once they were gone, they were gone. I no longer had a shaman to recharge my bow.

I looked down the nose of my arrow at the woman. I couldn't even recall her name. She'd wandered away from the Warden to piss, then cry a little. Such a pathetic little mouse. I couldn't take the shot, no matter how I tried to talk myself into the deed. Not twenty-four hours previously, I'd cut off a man's ear. But I couldn't kill this girl. It would have been too much like killing a shadow of my former self. It was then a sharp crack of white pain pelted the back of my skull. From my perch, I plummeted. The world around me was a blur of green leaves and blue skies as I dropped to the ground. I hit it hard, the force leaving me gasping for air. A vision of a finely bearded man came into focus gradually as the black spots faded.

"This is the wilder from Highever," he said, if the young Cousland had asked a question I missed it, "Last time I saw her was in a locked cell."

"How did she escape?" came the woman's imperious voice.

"How did I escape," I laughed, light headed and on the edge of delirium with my skull cracked as it was, "Howe. Both the answer and the question."

"You were sent after us then?" he asked, hushing the woman when she made a noise I couldn't make meaning of.

"That's the half of it," I said with another chuckle. Too much of my sense had been knocked free to keep my mouth closed. Especially since I had no penchant for that skill in the first place.

"I wonder, have you given any thought to the question I asked you before?"

"Of course, but I didn't deserve the honor then. I deserve it less now," I said, sobering a bit. Enough to start dreading my own demise.

"Life is rarely about what we deserve. Tell me. Why did you hesitate?" What an odd question I thought.

"Because I know what its like, to be the very last one. To know you would sell your soul to a demon if it would avenge them, and even then it won't be enough," there was no need to lie now, my death was upon me. With that confession, I felt my last shred of humanity wash over me in a breathless wave. Once again I struggled for air. I was crushed under the weight of it all, consumed by it.

"Come with us then, your life fighting darkspawn is more valuable to Ferelden then your meaningless death here," he said, offering me a hand up, "I don't think there has ever been a Chasind Warden before."

"I haven't been Chasind for a very long time. I'm Vhaaja, by the way," I responded distantly as I took his hand. By pulling myself up, I was accepting the purpose he was setting out before me. That, my friend, is how a wilder started on her path of becoming a Grey Warden. Not one of the three of us had any idea what would await us at Ostagar.


	2. A Flaming Ogre Isn't Nearly as Fun as It

**Blighted by Desire**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong> A Flaming Ogre Isn't Nearly as Fun as It Sounds...

* * *

><p>"Exactly how is it fitting to fight darkspawn where the Imperium tried to eradicate the Chasind? They failed, as my existence is evident of," I asked, as Duncan gave us the history of Ostagar on our approach. I had kept an eye wearily on the mutt the entire trip, and I half believe he kept one on me as well.<p>

"They did manage to hold the Chasind back," he countered, with a pointed finger.

"See that is where our histories differ. The Chasind were never trying to invade. We belong to the Wilds and the Lady of the Mists," I'll give the man credit, he did seem generally interested in what I was telling him. I have found that the outside world knows little of the Chasind, and only half of what they know is true. We were fading from view, just like we'd wanted. But instead of keeping us from the Chantry's sight it was only making others forget we were real people, not just legends and stories.

It was then that Elissa spoke, her voice to my ears like a cheese grater, "What kind of name is Vhaaja anyway?"

"What kind of name is Elissa?" I countered. To say the young Cousland and myself didn't get on at the start was the understatement of the age. She didn't so much complain constantly as she did sigh heavily whenever she found something disagreeable. Like my face for instance. I'd be lying if I said cuffing her those first few days never crossed my mind. But I'd been warned, one move to harm anyone and I wouldn't have to worry about the darkspawn any longer.

"Do you always have to be difficult? Just once, could you give me a straight answer when I ask a question?" she huffed. The mutt at her side echoed the sentiment.

"Perhaps you should better frame your questions, Lizzie dear," I grinned as the nickname she hated left my lips. She made an annoyed sound and plodded ahead few lengths in front of us.

"You really don't have to antagonize the girl, she's been through quite enough I think," he said, in that rich voice I knew was a warning.

"She's a tough chit, she'll handle it. She'll have to handle more before its through. Darkspawn don't die because you pout at them," I replied without apology.

"You've fought them before then, that could be to your benefit."

"The Blight didn't happen over night. We tried to warn your boy king, but the border Banns laughed us off their lands," Duncan cleared his throat, and jerked his bearded chin in front of him. Coming to greet us, of course, was Ferelden's boy king.

I never expected him to be so golden. Not just the armor, his whole being just radiated goodness and light. Cailan would have lasted exactly two shades of a second as a leader of a Chasind tribe. They were a people of balance, and the young Theirin had none. He was much too eager to meet his death in a glorious fashion for my tastes. Yet he was the offspring of the Savior Maric and his fierce queen Rowan. He might have grown into it if given the chance. How much easier would the Blight have been, I wonder, if the boy had simply said to himself 'why yes, decorated Hero of the River Dane, you might know a thing or two about this war business. I will heed your advise and not catapult myself into the middle of an enemy mob with my fingers crossed I'll make it out alright,'.

Though its probably hard to listen to sense when you are in your mind fitting yourself for a fancier hat; one befitting of the title of Emperor. To this day I'll tell anyone who asks that it isn't paranoia if they are actually out to get you. And the Orlesians are always out to get somebody, might as well be you.

I stood silent as Elissa and the man conversed, wishing myself invisible. If there was ever a man not to smart off to it was probably the King of Ferelden. I must have made a noise, I'm prone to them, as the two talked about Howe and how he expected to get away with such treachery. The ones still alive wrote the history books was the obvious answer. I believed the Couslands no more innocent, they'd stabbed someone in the back to gain Highever in the first place I was sure. Nobility was rarely ever noble.

"And who is this, she looks a bit like those wilders that have been wandering about," he asked, looking to Duncan.

"Imagine that, wilders wandering about in the Wilds," I clapped my mouth shut as soon as I spoke, unable to hold my tongue. There have been many times where I've wondered if cutting the damned thing might make my life a slight easier. But I am rather attached to the organ it seems. Cailan's blue eyes leveled on me, as if truly seeing me for the first time. He was handsome, and Desire took notice.

_-I wonder if he loves his wife, or if he seeks his pleasures else where...- _the demon's thought like a voice filtered through my mind.

**-We aren't going to find out,- **I assured Desire, who pouted a moment before returning to the back corner of my mind where she watched and observed the mortal plane with a dedicated scrutiny. We weren't quite an abomination, or so the demon claimed. We were still two very separate entities, a relationship she wouldn't have been able to maintain with a mage and one I'd had to seek the Witch of the Wilds to accomplish.

"Right, that does make sense then," he said thoughtfully. I grinned, I'd just insulted the man's intelligence, and he'd near patted me on the head for it. Apparently the man was impossible to ruffle unless your surname was Mac Tir.

The king left us, having a very busy day of not listening to common sense or his top ranked general planned. You can imagine neither of Elissa or I were pleased when Duncan told the pair of us to stay together and find the other Warden, a fellow named Alistair. See, I told you we would get to him soon enough. Just not quite yet.

At the entrance of the camp, just passed the ancient bridge, stood two gigantic statues. If this is what they built on the farthest frontier, I wondered briefly what they had built in the Imperium itself. Perhaps, if I survived the Blight I'd make it a point to see for myself. Between us and Alistair was the menagerie of the war camp. The first thing I noticed was the din of hundreds of voices and bodies assaulting my ears.

I eyed Ser Loghain's tent as we passed it, half tempted to approach and hold my hand out as I told the Teyrn where his Warden had gotten to. Yet it was only my mouth that ran off without me and not my feet included. It did remind me that I had less than a sovereign left to my ill-reputed name. I'd left a good many things in my camp that I had no time to go back for. My leathers were in good repair though, and my bow and blades would do. I couldn't help thinking I should be better armed when facing off against a darkspawn horde.

As we passed the mage's part of the camp, I felt a slight tingle start at the base of my skull and radiate to my teeth and the palate of my mouth. That level of energy in the air could mean only one thing, the mages were conducting some sort of ritual.

I'd wanted to avoid the Tranquil like the Blight itself, but Elissa insisted on poking at it. Not that it would mind. I on the other hand had had more than my fill of the Tranquil. One of the tricks the Orlesians had brought with them to subdue the Chasind was to Tranquil our shamans and their apprentices, then return them to us under the guise of mercy. The Chasind are a people who tell their children stories about a woman that steals their souls, is it little wonder grown men would ponder before a Tranquil? Or that the Chasind called the Tranquil soulless? A whole generation of leaders lost. But we'd survived.

It was then I heard a familiar voice from the direction of the quartermaster. I turned leaving Elissa to her Tranquil and her futile efforts to wrap her mind around them. It wasn't as if she could annoy the piss out of him as she did me. The man I spotted looked a bit different by the light of day, but not over much. On my quest to follow Duncan, I'd slept with a Warden recruit to learn where the man was headed. I hadn't needed to sleep with him I suppose, but he'd been there and Desire had wanted to be fed.

The dark-haired rogue was chatting up a woman wearing a great deal of armor when I called to him, "Daveth, you dog."

He seemed generally surprised to see me again, I'd been gone before he woke; like a wraith into the night. The knowing smile that formed at his lips told me he remembered me fondly, though it was hard to tell if the want I was scenting on him was strictly for me. I'd wagered it was for any set of comely thighs he could get between.

"So you two know each other?" came Elissa from behind me.

"Only in the strictest physical sense," I answered, a shared smug grin passed between us, "Those deft fingers are good for more than picking locks Lizzie dear," I teased, she moved off towards the old temple with her fists clenched and her face bright as a strawberry. The things she was muttering under her breath about me weren't kind either, "It appears I've offended my Lady's tender sensibilities. Don't suppose you can tell me anything about this Joining business?"

"I hear they are sending us into the Wilds, they are," I noticed the shiver course through his body, "I grew up not too far from here. The Wilds are a scary place."

"I grew up in the Wilds, trust me I know. I won't let anything eat you, I promise," I said crossing my heart, with a little laugh.

"You do look a bit Chasind in the daylight," he said, an edge to his voice. You might wonder, shouldn't my heritage be obvious? The Chasind are a small, stocky, darkly colored people with light skin tones. I was short, a bit stocky in my build but my coloring was a bit off. My hair being a mousy brown instead of harsh black. There is an odd caste to my features as well, only truly noticeable in the slant of my eyes and formation of my high cheekbones. I blame those on my mother, she wasn't a wilder born.

"We should...reconnect later," I regarded him with a sultry wink before following after Elissa. Desire was starting to get a bit peckish, the better fed I kept the demon the less annoying she was. Daveth would suffice for yet another meal.

The old temple was another amazing example of how magnificent the Imperium had once been, now nothing more than a dying empire strangled by the Chantry. I ascended the marble stairs with my eyes locked on the broken pillars thrusting their might into the sky like spear points. I almost bumped into a disgruntled man in robes as I pressed onward in my awe. I had half a mind to shorten his trip with a shove after he called me a fool and told me to get out of his way. It did appear that it was everyone's day to be annoyed, not just mine. As I came to the top and noticed the man across from Elissa I fathomed why the mage had had his nose out of joint. His bearing, I recognized it innately. He could be nothing else, "Lovely, a damned Templar."

I came to stand next to the young Cousland, horrified I'd speak about a servant of the Chantry with such disrespect. It was going to be a long Blight, for both of us. The blond, man quirked an eyebrow at that and examined me with suspicion. The way he did that, there was the look of someone familiar about him. But I couldn't place my finger on it, "Wait, we haven't met before have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?"

"Would that make your day worse? No, I'm not a mage. I'm just Vhaaja," I replied with a flourish and a slight bow, "you must be Alistair."

"Duncan didn't mention anything about bringing two recruits, though I suppose the more the merrier," he said and took it in stride, I admired immediately. Believe it or not, sometimes I rub people the wrong way, "I am curious, how did you guess?"

"Must be the 'I own the world and everything in it' attitude the Chantry trains into its knights," I answered, trying harder than I should have to keep a straight face.

"Really, I do?" He asked, knitting his brow with thought.

"Or it could have been that the irate mage I almost kicked down the stairs was muttering unkind things towards your person and I extrapolated from there," I smirked, no need to let him know quite yet that I used to kill his ilk as a part of my profession. I was a damn good shot too, could catch one through the eye of his bucket helm with the right arrow points. I'd wait to reveal that little tidbit after I was actually a Grey Warden.

"Right, that. You know...it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?" He continued, valiantly trying to keep the conversation going in a positive direction.

"Probably because we're to smart for you," Elissa said, her tone the very depiction of a noblewoman trying to be clever.

Without missing a beat Alistair replied, "True. But you're here, whats that make you?"

A bark of laughter managed to escaped me before I could muffle it. The young Cousland scion leveled her gaze on me. If looks could kill, I'd have been writhing on the ground in a good deal of agony. Then she replied, "Eager to get going."

"Sad isn't it?" He turned to me, I shrugged in response, "So I'm curious. Have either of you ever actually encountered a darkspawn before?"

Elissa shook her head, "No, I haven't."

"Die as quickly as anything else once you put an arrow through their eye socket," I said, "But as much as you ladies are enjoying this tea party, if we are headed into the Wilds we might want to start while there is still daylight."

He eyed me, apparently I already knew too much, "Very true. As junior member of the Order, I'll be accompanying you as your prepare for the Joining. Let's head back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started," Alistair said, gesturing out of the Temple.

oOo

It was safe to say, I was the only one of the excited about delving into the Wilds. I knew which ruin likely held the chest of treaties Alistair was tasked with getting. It wasn't very far in, and on the way we were sure to run into enough darkspawn to collect our four vials. Joining Elissa, Daveth and I was a knight from Highever, originally from Redcliffe. He was a loathsome man, the bottom of a barrel of many I've encountered. I pitied his poor wife, Carleyna, or was it Helene? Whatever, my point was his only redeeming quality was his sword arm, and even then Elissa's was much better.

We bandaged a soldier and sent him on his way so we could continue on our own. There was no telling if he was tainted yet, the sudden thought of ghouls set upon my mind a question, "It may be too late to ask this, but there is a plan right? To keep us from contracting the corruption?"

Alistair glance sidelong at me as he answered, "Its not something Grey Wardens have to worry about," he then went on to tell us he could sense the darkspawn and that he was in fact a shining beacon to them as well.

To which I replied, "Glorious." earning a snicker from the Warden. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought the King of Ferelden warranted the butt end of a joke. Though in a few hours neither of us would be finding it funny in the least.

We preceded onward, from a large trunk fallen over the path hung men twisting in the breeze above the earth. Our fearless leader commented, "Poor slobs, that's a bit excessive."

"Darkspawn aren't smart enough for intimidation tactics are they? And why would they want to repel us? More likely I think that they are saving themselves a snack for later," I replied. I'd done much the same to keep my food stores from bears or other beasts while I was away.

"Not, helping," he said, uncomfortable at the prospect. It says something about the person I was then that it didn't bother me in the least. It was the law of the Wilds, eat or get eaten. Of course, being a woman eating me was the least of my worries. But again, I'm getting ahead of myself. Suppose I'll never make a proper troubadour.

"I don't think mist is suppose to do that," commented Daveth, clearly the most observant of our merry band. I looked down, and around me mist was collecting in a thin veil. I lift my hand and pulled my fingers through the layer of moisture.

"The mists recognize my bloodline," I said, feeling distant. They shouldn't have been looking for me, "My father, he was the leader of his tribe, shamans lead the Chasind," I clarified. I chuckled inappropriately, it helped to keep the tears away. I shouldn't have been on the edge crying for the man either. He'd never wanted me, "What the Templars couldn't catch the Blight got apparently."

No one talked directly to me the rest of the way into the Wilds. I took up a position in the back of the group, where I could best see to fire off my arrows. The man's passing shouldn't have been such a blow, but it only drove home how utterly alone I was. We finished collecting the blood we needed, this Joining starting to reek suspiciously of blood magic. Next I pointed the group to the ruins I though best to start our search for the lost Warden treaties.

There we met Morrigan, the Witch of the Wild's daughter and apprentice. Our eyes met, hers more beast than human. She'd been raise removed from men, and it showed in every fiber of her being. From the way she talked to the way she moved. The wry smirk that curled her lip as she looked through me signified that she remembered who I was. And probably why I'd sought Flemeth. I stayed silent, not knowing if the woman would find it amusing to tell them my secret or not. I waited for the woman to cry abomination and point a finger. Desire seemed disinterested, bringing to light that they would much more believe the Witch's daughter to be the abomination. Finally it was agreed that she would take them to meet her mother.

"All of you, save the bow-mage," she eyed me as she named my title. After assurances that the hut was not far, it was Daveth that volunteered to stay and 'protect' me as the others went into the Wilds to fetch the treaties. So we sat, next to the chest the treaties had been kept, our backs against the ancient stone wall. We exchanged stories of how we'd ended up Warden recruits.

"So why stay now? You've had countless opportunities to slip away. I won't stop you now if you have the mind," I asked, genuinely curious.

"I've asked myself that a few times, I have. Besides being a wanted man I suppose I took a good long look at how I got where I am. So many wrong turns lead me here, its my chance to make things right," he answered, a surprisingly deep confession from the rogue. A wolfish grin stretched his mouth, then threw an arm about my person. He maybe thought he was being sly about it, he wasn't. I let him just the same. It felt good, his warmth about me. I took comfort from it, I'd just learned my father had perished after all. No one ever tells you how you are suppose to feel when your sperm donor dies, "How about you, you could leave right now."

"I promised I wouldn't let anything eat you," I said with a nudge, and shamelessly leaning my head against the leather of his shoulder. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten close to Daveth, considering how everything turned out. Yet maybe its why I try harder at being a Warden then I ever tried at anything else. After the Joining, I wasn't just fighting for myself anymore. I was a part of something greater.

oOo

Ah the Joining. You know I shouldn't be telling you this. Its a secret ritual for a very good reason. It was the spry rogue that went first, taking a gulp of the foul concoction. It was soon apparent from the convulsions that he didn't take to it. I moved to his side, when they said he was dead. Checking just to make sure he didn't linger. The last thing the man deserved was to languish between living and death any longer than he had to. But my attention was soon caught up in the confrontation that was escalating before us. I could tell from the look in the knight's eyes, he was going to fight or take foot. I slowly pulled the dagger from my boot. If Daveth died honorably for the cause then this grub wasn't going to get out of it. He'd no more pulled the sword from his sheath then I launched my blade spiraling through the air to take him in the throat. His eyes bulged and his weapons dropped, Duncan leveled a gaze on me, not in the least horrified. Almost grateful even. He'd had his hand on his hilt, prepared to do the same thing I think.

"I've been waiting to do that all day, stupid slob," I said in a low voice as I rose, holding out my hand for the silver chalice. I stared into the vile brew, the stench worse than that of an actual darkspawn if that was possible. Which to me always stunk of a corpse covered in sewage wrapped in a blanket and left in the sun too long. Surely Desire wouldn't let me die to a bit of darkspawn blood.

_-Keep your fingers crossed maybe?-_ the demon suggested, she wasn't sure if she could help. But she'd never been keen on giving me up as a host with out a fight. What Desire and I have, its a unique situation. Even if I don't always feel that special. She was a bit nervous, but also excited. She'd never possessed a Grey Warden before. It would be a completely new experience.

I took a deep breath and swallowed the disgusting mixture. I dreamt of the Archdemon, and the chattering of a thousand voices. I survived it if you haven't guessed. I wouldn't be sitting here recounting the tale otherwise would I? Unless I was a ghost. I don't think I'm a ghost. Though that might make a good story, a person being a ghost and not knowing it. Maybe I'll pen it myself.

At the end of it there were only Elissa and myself had become Grey Wardens. When I was handed my Warden's Oath, an amulet of we are given after the ceremony, I asked that we make one too for Daveth. He was as much a Grey Warden as we who survived it. Not that anyone really survives a Joining in the strictest sense. I wore my Oath, along with Daveth's. A sentiment for all of our wrong turns, and hopes that we might make it right by taking up sword and bow against the Blight.

I'll not dally on well known history. Elissa, Alistair and I were sent to the Tower of Ishal to light a beacon. The beacon rather. The one that was to signal Ser Loghain to attack. Alistair was not happy about being sent on such a paltry task. His tune soon changed as we came upon the tower overrun by darkspawn. They'd come up from underneath, from tunnels that ran like rabbit warrens below the ruins. Rather clever design in a world where monsters plow their way up from the depths. We climbed our way to the top of that Tower, there between us and our mission objective was a big fat ugly ogre. It was a beast I'd only ever laid eyes upon once before, and it hadn't died easily. My eyes spotted the beacon and I smeared my oozing blood upon my bow priming it before I nocked an arrow.

I had failed to protect my shaman, I had failed to track Duncan without being caught, I had failed to kill the Cousland whelp, I sure as the Sky Mother's Mercy was not going to fail to light this beacon.

"Stay back," I warned my companions as I released. My arrow flew wide of the beast, consumed in a reddish glow. It struck the wood meant to fuel the beacon, in the next heartbeat the room was consumed in a fiery inferno; the spell spent from my bow. I had successfully lit the beacon, but in the process I had also set the ogre on fire. Which contrary to how it sounds, is not a good thing.


End file.
